


Cosmic Karma

by Esperata



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Brave McCoy, Dreams, M/M, Maniacal Spock, Minor Character Death, Past Lives, Space Stations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Spock is being troubled by illogical dreams that seem to center on Doctor McCoy. Are they trying to tell him something? And if so, what?The first time is never the first time.





	1. Romulan

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Empok Nor, Revisited](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493997) by [StellarLibraryLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady). 
  * Inspired by [Empok Nor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10492419) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata). 



> So I had a bad day and wrote 'Empok Nor'. StellarLibraryLady then posted 'Empok Nor, Revisited' to cheer me up. From that idea came this story.

It starts as it always starts.

Spock watches through the eyes of another. The landscape is soothingly familiar. Vulcan’s Forge in all its harshness. Spock would recognise it even if his other self did not.

But he is not concerned with the landscape. It is the activity upon it that holds his attention. Or rather, the activity of one particular figure.

Some distance away from where he stands, a group of Vulcans are heading towards a waiting shuttle. Not ordinary Vulcans though. They are outcasts, leaving Vulcan forever to forge their own destiny.

Each individual carries a holdall or bag containing those few possessions too precious to leave. They walk at a steady pace, neither too anxious to leave nor over willing to stay. Except one.

The figure Spock is watching is not walking at a uniform pace. In fact, as he watches she falls to the back of the little group and then simply stops. She stands motionless for several long breaths before turning. Even though the distance is too great to see, Spock already knows she has the rarity of blue eyes.

Then she drops her bag and runs back to him. He braces himself for the impact but does not move to meet her.

She flings her arms about him in a constricting embrace.

“I can’t leave you. I can’t! I’ll change. I’ll adopt the ways of Surak. I’ll do anything but leave you.”

He stands still and swallows before he can find his voice to reply.

“Your very reason for staying is in contradiction of the principles of Surak. It is logical for you to leave.”

The woman looks up, her blue eyes bright with tears, and Spock sees her heart break.

*

Spock opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling in his quarters.

He always awoke at this point in the dream and, for all its familiarity, the dream never failed to leave him discomposed. It was not true that Vulcans do not dream however their dreams were treated as logically as their emotions. That was, they could be controlled. These dreams however, could not.

This dream was one of several similar examples that played like a memory, unalterable in its telling. Spock had tried on previous nights to alter details, either simple acts like the regularity of his blinking or even attempting to change its conclusion. It had proved impossible.

Most dreams were comprehensible – a representation from his subconscious mind of an issue he failed to deal with or take sufficient note of during the day. They have provided an additional opportunity to analyse a situation. These dreams linked to nothing from his previous activities that he could tell.

The most worrying aspect however, was the illogical nature of them. He both knows he is Spock and knows that he is not. He was aware even the first time he experienced this dream of what would happen and who the participants were. There was no reason the first time that he should have known those Vulcans were the early Romulan settlers. Certainly no way he should have known the woman’s eyes were vivid blue. And no reason he should believe with utter certainty that she was Doctor McCoy.

Yet, just as in each dream he knew himself, regardless of his appearance, so too does he infallibly recognise McCoy, irrespective of gender or culture.

Spock pulled himself out of bed and headed into his bathroom.

This was in part why he had not reported this dream, nor any of the other similar ones, to the doctor. It is of course advisable to alert the CMO to any unusual changes that he experiences. Yet, they are still only dreams, even if they are unusual. They do not impact on his day to day duties. All it would serve to do is worry the emotional human.

And admitting that he believed his partner in the dreams was the doctor would be… inadvisable at the present time.

Spock’s relationship with the doctor seemed to be in a period of transformation. Spock had finally realised that McCoy’s aggressive rants were not actually the result of genuine anger with the Vulcan, but were in fact a sign of his concern. McCoy believes that Spock would be happier if he gave more acknowledgment to his human half and he expressed this the only way he knew how.

Spock wondered if the doctor now recognised that Spock’s stern admonishments were also the result of concern rather than disapproval – that Spock himself thought that McCoy would be better off if he was less at the mercy of his emotions.

Spock wasn’t sure what their relationship was transforming _into_ , only that he did not want to damage it by informing McCoy that in his dreams they always ended up broken apart.

As Spock finished his ablutions, he considered the possibility that it was this transition that prompted the start of the dreams. It was true that the one common feature was always the doctor in various forms. And they began shortly after his return from Bajor when McCoy both evinced pleasure at his return and interest in helping Spock study the data he returned with.

The trip had been fascinating. His father had invited him to join him since he was travelling there as Ambassador to suggest the possibility of Bajor joining the Federation of Planets. While that had not come to anything, Spock’s scientific research had provided sufficient information to keep him occupied a long while. Bajor was one of the oldest civilisations in the quadrant and he had been fortunate that his connection with the Ambassador allowed him to meet the leader of the Vedek Assembly – the Kai.

As he stepped out of his quarters to go to the mess hall for breakfast, he ran through his day’s schedule. Today he had bridge duty early followed by an afternoon in the science labs. Doctor McCoy had suggested meeting him there to help him researching the cultural similarities between the Bajoran artefact he’d been gifted and artefacts from other civilisations.

Spock tried to shake the unsettled feeling the dream’s conclusion left him with. It was after all illogical to consider the dream as any manner of premonition.


	2. Bajoran

Their hands brushed as Spock handed McCoy the statuette to examine.

Spock’s eyes remained riveted on the doctor’s fingers – steady, tactile, delicate, expressive – while McCoy’s eyes flashed up to the Vulcan’s face – calm, intense, restrained, elegant.

McCoy turned away awkwardly, shifting the object about in his hands.

“Quite charming. In its way,” he offered over his shoulder.

“Indeed.”

McCoy looked back to him.

“What did you say it was meant to be?”

“It is a corporeal representation of one of the Bajoran gods – a Prophet.”

“Prophet huh? Accurate enough name for a god I suppose. Tells you what to expect.”

“It is a surprisingly logical name for a mythical being,” Spock allowed.

McCoy grinned at him.

“Now Mister Spock. We mustn’t knock primitive religions. Can you prove they’re mythical?”

“It is exceptionally hard to prove the non-existence of anything,” Spock frowned minutely. “As well you know.”

He held out his hand for the statuette and McCoy moved back to him. The doctor held onto the artefact a fraction too long, even when Spock had gripped it.

“I suppose you found your time on Bajor _fascinating_ ,” he teased with an unexpected frown as Spock turned with his object to the table.

“The civilisation is one of the oldest in the Alpha Quadrant. It was indeed fascinating.”

“Bet you just enjoyed having a break from us _illogical_ humans.”

Spock glanced over at the apparently irritated doctor.

“The Bajoran people are quite as illogical doctor.”

Whether this appeased the human physician or not, Spock wasn’t sure. McCoy settled in front of his computer and began his research. The Vulcan studied him a moment, seeing as his face cleared into one of fascination as he learnt new things. It was in times like this that Spock could so easily imagine spending a lifetime with McCoy. Or more.

*

“I don’t suppose Vulcans have such a thing as prophets?” McCoy spoke idly, taking a rest from cross referencing legends of prophets from across the civilised world.

Spock had long ago recognised that humans required these breaks in order to operate efficiently. The doctor especially seemed to be revitalised by a temporary change of focus. So while Spock himself would be easily able to continue working with singular focus for the entire shift, he had learnt to factor in these conversational segues.

He looked over at the human.

“Prophecy is highly illogical, Doctor. It is not possible to predict the future with any high degree of accuracy.”

“You can predict some things though,” McCoy mused. “Astronomical events, the inevitable downfall of civilisations… even people’s behavioural patterns are predictable.”

“Those are scientific predictions though. Based on observations and facts. The term ‘prophecy’ usually implies a degree of faith rather than science.”

“Fine line sometimes though. I mean, consider a being from an advanced race who turns up amidst a primitive race. His science will be their magic. Are his predictions prophecies or not?”

“They are scientific predictions regardless of whether the populace understand the science. It is also a violation of the Prime Directive.”

“I didn’t say any of them were Federation members did I?”

Spock pursed his lips but otherwise didn’t respond.

“But what if it’s a form of science we simply don’t understand?” McCoy pressed. “That’s my point. What if we’re the primitive race in that scenario?”

Spock considered this.

“Your suggestion has some merit Doctor. It is one we would be unable to disprove without further data. However without evidence it is also illogical to assume such a theory to be correct.”

“What about this evidence?” McCoy gestured to his screen. “Sure a lot of prophets have been conmen but there’s a lot of unexplained accurate predictions among this lot.”

“Statistically the average success rate does not prove reliability. It is inevitable that a small proportion would be correct due to the laws of probability. It is also probable that some could be misinterpreted-”

“Dammit Spock, do you have to crush all my hopes?”

Spock suddenly recalled a different blue-eyed look as another individual’s hopes were crushed and he didn’t immediately respond.

“That’s what a lot of these are about,” McCoy continued, assuming Spock’s silence was puzzlement. “It’s the universal constant of hope. Hope in something better, hope in a greater force perhaps, hope that there’s a purpose in it all.”

The room fell silent. McCoy twiddled with his PADD stylus.

“Everybody should have hope Spock,” he finally concluded.

“That is something you are far more qualified to comment on than I,” Spock allowed.

Another awkward silence fell over the room and McCoy turned back to his screen.

Spock cautiously watched him even as his focus remained on scanning and recording the artefact before him. The object was showing altered energy readings but Spock had yet to isolate what form of energy had changed.

The doctor was hunched more defensively than before. It was a familiar posture and one Spock did not enjoy seeing.

When McCoy was happy, he was warm, open and inviting. But all too often in Spock’s company he seemed angry and defensive. Spock wondered about his dreams again. Was it possible the doctor also experienced them? If not identical than similar?

The human would undoubtedly conclude they represented a deeper meaning, or perhaps even a past existence, and since they all concluded with Spock – or a version of Spock – causing McCoy (or again, a version of him) distress then wouldn’t that give McCoy sufficient reason to be overly defensive now?

The only logical thing to do was to ask and then explain that the dreams had no substance. It was likely the doctor would chose not to believe him but it was all Spock could think of to do.

“Doctor-”

He was interrupted by a voice from the comm unit.

“Mister Spock to the bridge please. Mister Spock to the bridge.”

He stepped smartly over and flicked the switch.

“On my way Lieutenant.”

He glanced at McCoy who was watching with curiosity.

“Doctor?” It was an open question that left McCoy free to make any response he felt like.

“I may as well come up with you.” He slid off his stool. “Find out if I need to prep sickbay.”

Spock refrained from pointing out the doctor would undoubtedly be informed if that was required and merely walked with the doctor out of the labs.


	3. Spartan

Captain Kirk evinced absolutely no surprise as both Spock and McCoy joined him on the bridge. As the Vulcan moved straight to his science station, Jim greeted the doctor with a nod.

“What’s going on Jim?”

“We’re come across something rather unexpected.” Jim gestured at the viewscreen.

McCoy looked and wondered what Jim was getting at.

“Looks like a space station to me,” he commented. “Not one of ours though. Is it Vulcan?”

“Negative,” Spock responded. “Although there are certain similarities in design. That is a Romulan space station.”

“Romulan? What in hell’s name is a Romulan space station doing out here?”

“Just what I’d like to know. Theories Mister Spock?”

Spock checked various readings before answering.

“According to the scans, the layout matches that of the Gasko Station, which is supposed to be in Gasko system of the Gasko sector-”

“Gee, wonder how they came up with the name,” McCoy muttered. Spock ignored him.

“It is showing high levels of chroniton radiation.”

“Chroniton?” Kirk queried. “Isn’t that a byproduct of time travel?”

“Exactly Captain. Given the facts, it would seem likely the Romulans have attempted to travel through time with the station. However I doubt their experiment was entirely successful.”

“Oh?” McCoy asked. “Why not?”

“Firstly, its appearance here seems to be an unlikely goal. I would anticipate that it has also slipped through space unintentionally. Secondly, I am not picking up any life signs. Although the radiation may be affecting our scanners.”

Kirk stared thoughtfully at the station in front of them.

“Is it also possible that it’s a trap? That they put it here just to lure us aboard and attack?”

“That is a possibility. However I should point out that while our scanners may possibly be overlooking a few life signs, they would not fail to register a significant number of individuals.”

Kirk nodded.

“Noted Mister Spock. Still… I’ll stay on the _Enterprise_ until we’re sure they’re not about to spring a trap. You and Doctor McCoy head over there with a couple of engineers and see if you can find out what happened. I want to know what happened to the crew and I want to know how that station came to be here.”

“We will be unable to utilise the transporters,” Spock reported. “The chroniton radiation would prove hazardous.”

“Thank heavens for small mercies,” McCoy murmured.

“Fine. Take _Copernicus_. Better take a couple of security guards just in case. And report in every hour.”

“Communicators are unlikely to work due to the-”

“Chroniton radiation,” Jim concluded with a rueful nod. “Well, report back from the shuttle then. Its communications system should punch through the radiation shouldn’t it?”

“Yes Captain,” Spock agreed, finally moving towards the turbolift.

As the two officers stepped inside, Jim heard McCoy mutter.

“Why is it our communicators never damn well work?”

*

Twenty minutes later they were flying towards the dark, intimidating Romulan space station.

Spock was sitting with Lieutenant Commander Giotto in the front of the shuttle. Behind the security chief, Doctor McCoy sat alongside Engineer Jo Eaves, and behind them were ensigns James Nees and Livvy Urwin.

“The chroniton radiation appears to be rising at an unexpected rate,” Spock commented as he studied the readouts.

“You mean more than simply because we’re getting nearer?” McCoy clarified.

“Indeed,” Spock agreed. “It is undergoing periodic surges that…”

…

The dawn is coming. It is cool now but soon the day will heat and blood will stir. He stands looking out across the plains before him and knows he will die today.

Spock has never been to this place – had never even heard of this obscure Earth battle before researching it after the first dream – but from the first he recognised it as Leuctra in Boeotia.

The Spartans should have an easy victory, they have such superior numbers, but the troops morale is low and so instead many have taken to the bottle. While Spock, or the Spartan who is also somehow Spock, has not touched a drop, still he knows the outcome of the battle is not favourable with so many inebriated.

A rustle behind him makes him turn.

A Boeotian steps out of the night-time shadows and approaches. Spock’s heart melts at the sight and he takes the other man into his arms. He wishes he could stay there for ever, comforted by the warmth.

“Don’t go,” the Boeotian murmurs. He is a doctor Spock knows, both in Thespiae and in Spock’s own time.

“Stay with me,” the doctor pleads. “I can hide you and pretend you escaped the battle later.” Blue eyes shine pleadingly at Spock and he wants to surrender then. Wants to allow himself to be cared for so devotedly.

But he shakes his head.

“I am a Spartiate,” he replies. “I should not be worthy of you should I refuse to fight.”

“I don’t care if you’re worthy! I want you alive!”

“I could not bring such shame to you.”

They stare at each other, locked in the impasse until the doctor swiftly pulls away.

“Damn you then. Damn you to Hades!”

And with that he turns and leaves.

…

“Spock!” The slap brought him round and he reached up in time to catch the hand before it swung again.

“Spock, what in hell happened? You went into some sort of trance!”

McCoy’s worry was fully apparent and for a second Spock could do nothing but stare at the unguarded face close to his own.

Then Giotto’s voice intruded.

“- will rendezvous back at the _Enterprise_ in-”

He surged upright.

“No. That will not be necessary.”

“Dammit Spock! Until I know what just happened I will not let you continue this mission. I’ll declare you unfit for duty.”

“Unfit?” Spock echoed unintentionally before he recalled himself. “I am perfectly well doctor. I simply suffered an unexpected telepathic reaction to the radiation. Now I am aware of the possibility I shall be capable of maintaining sufficient shields to prevent a recurrence.”

The two senior officers glared and Giotto waited to find out which would win this particular battle.

“Damn you then,” McCoy muttered, slumping back into his seat. Spock blinked, startled but quickly recovered.

“Lieutenant Commander, please inform _Enterprise_ we will continue as planned.”


	4. Human

McCoy didn’t make any secret of watching Spock as they approached and entered the space station. However the Vulcan appeared as serene as always.

Still McCoy couldn’t shake the memory of his face… the flicker of emotions playing out so fast they were indistinguishable… but completely detached from his surroundings. And then when he’d come to and _looked_ at McCoy…

“Doctor, you should attempt to locate their medical facilities and access any data held there. It is possible that their journey affected the crew in unexpected ways that would be recorded by their medical officers. Ensign Urwin, Eaves, accompany the doctor.”

“And where will you be headed?” McCoy demanded.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“To the command centre naturally. Senior officers would undoubtedly have recorded all events. As long as Ensign Nees and I can restore partial power to the computers we should be able to download all relevant data.”

“And we all meet back here in an hour?” Giotto queried.

“I expect transfer of information may take longer to complete,” Spock replied. “As long as we encounter no problems en route, I’d suggest yourself and Ensign Urwin convene back here in an hour to report while the engineers complete their work.”

“And I’m just along to what? Look pretty?” McCoy crossed his arms in annoyance.

Spock blinked, apparently thrown by the remark.

“I expect you to review the data files and assess the fate of the crew as far as you are able Doctor.”

Giotto quickly whispered a few instructions to Urwin as Spock spoke swiftly to the two engineers, McCoy supposed about downloading procedures or power restoration. Whatever, McCoy stole a moment while the Vulcan was distracted to hiss a few words to Giotto.

“Keep an eye on Spock. If he so much as pales I want to know about it.”

The Lieutenant Commander nodded briskly to indicate he understood before moving to lead his party towards wherever the command centre was.

McCoy turned to his little team.

“So… any ideas where their sickbay is?”

“I downloaded the relevant schematics,” Ensign Eaves told him and gestured them down another corridor.

McCoy gave one glance back at the retreating Vulcan before following his guide away.

*

The trip through the station had uncovered very little.

It was lit only by emergency lighting and there was no sign of either bodies or life. However it was scattered with various handheld items that suggested the occupants had gone without warning. PADDs, cups, guns, helmets, and odds and ends that implied repair works were in process.

It had been easy enough to restore limited power from the command center. Spock sent what power he could recover to the computer terminals. There wasn’t a surplus and it was illogical to light the entire station when their mission only required computer access. He now studied the readouts while Ensign Nees input commands to transfer what information he could access. Lieutenant Commander Giotto stood up from the recessed command well, still on alert despite having encountered nothing on the way.

Spock’s attention was primarily on the time travel device installed in the heart of the stations power system. The device was pulling large amounts of energy still and appeared to be building up its reserves. If it reached critical point then it would in all likelihood activate and shunt the station further through time.

The Romulans had integrated the system too thoroughly with the stations primary power. To disable the time travel generator would require shutting down all stations functions, including life support. While possible, it was a more complicated procedure than Spock could manage with only two engineers. And the time it would take to receive additional help from the _Enterprise_ would be too long.

The only logical alternative was to gather what data they could and vacate before the system reached critical levels.

“Ensign, Lieutenant Commander, it appears we have a significant time factor. Although it is hard to be certain from this data, I anticipate we must vacate the station in approximately 1 hour or risk being taken through time with it.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I want to do,” Nees commented.

“Exactly. Giotto, please inform the other team that unless they wish to be spirited away-”

…

First contact with Earth has been… fascinating.

It was an unplanned stop on a routine survey mission. An unusual warp signature from an unremarkable planet warranted investigation.

Now, several Earth days have passed where a parade of important people have been introduced.

Spock has felt out of place in all this. She is not a trained diplomat, nor even a command officer. Her field is scientific research. It has left her with little to talk about with the Humans whose own research is considerably behind Vulcans.

Yet one has made her feel at ease.

He must have sensed her discomfort because unlike many others, he asked her about herself. Did she enjoy travelling? Was her work interesting? Had she any family back home? What was her impression of Earth?

They talked long into the night. And the next morning they found more to talk about.

He was a psychiatrist and initially she thought he was endeavouring to compile a profile for Vulcans based on her responses. When she told him this, he laughed and his blue eyes twinkled.

“My dear, professionally, I’m far more interested in how Humanity will respond to Vulcans.”

“And personally?” she enquired.

“Personally, I’m more fascinated by you than anyone I’ve ever met. It would take a hundred lifetimes to profile you.”

She arched an elegant eyebrow.

“It would be an interesting endeavour,” she agreed. 

Now however it is time to leave.

The crew are gathered ready to re-board their vessel and a wealth of Humans have come to bid them farewell. As speeches are made, Spock’s eyes find the man’s blue gaze.

There is much she is still interested to learn about him, on every level, but she is a subordinate. She must follow orders.

And that means she will in all probability never see him or Earth again.

…

Giotto had been focused on the Vulcan when Spock suddenly stopped still. For an instant he’d assumed the Commander had been struck by a thought but then he recognised the symptoms.

With that realisation he sprinted towards the stairs down to the command well, remembering how Doctor McCoy had brought the Vulcan round. It was this reaction that proved their undoing.

Ensign Nees had also noticed Spock’s trance-like state and moved to help. Giotto was halfway down the steps when he saw the Ensign move to slap the Vulcan, just as McCoy had done before.

Only this time the response was very different.

Spock reached out with one hand and there was an audible crack.

“Dungi ri nash-veh trasha,” Spock hissed.

Giotto froze as he saw the Ensign’s body collapse to the ground. This was his second mistake.

By the time he reached for his phaser, Spock had seized one of the abandoned Romulan weapons.

The deafening crack of the gun echoed throughout the chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loose translation: I will not leave this one


	5. Vulcan

The medbay was only a few floors below the command centre and the muffled sound echoed through to them.

“What the blazes is going on up there?” McCoy growled.

“Shall I go and investigate sir?” Urwin asked him.

“No,” he waved her back to place. “You stay with Eaves. We need you to run the report down to the _Copernicus_ remember. I’ll go see what’s happening. Not doing much good here anyway,” he grumbled to himself as he left the two young ensigns behind.

It didn’t take him long to find his way – it was called the command _centre_ for a reason after all – but when he arrived there didn’t seem to be anything to see.

He frowned. Where were they?

“Hello?” he called as he stepped down a staircase and looked about. A choking cough drew his attention and he hurried across the room to find Giotto collapsed and bleeding heavily at the foot of the stairs.

He drew his medikit open and set to work even as he demanded, “What the hell happened?”

“Sp-pock,” Giotto gasped but McCoy quickly shushed him.

“Give me a minute,” he said, “You’ve got a punctured lung.”

The security chief nodded awkwardly and waited with rasping breath as McCoy ran his dermal regenerator over the worst of his wounds.

“That should hold you together,” he announced after a couple of minutes, “So long as you don’t move too much. Now what about Spock? What’s happened to him?”

Giotto swallowed.

“He… I don’t know what happened… he killed Ensign Nees…”

“What?!”

Giotto gave a nod towards where the engineer had fallen. McCoy glanced over and even from this distance could tell the man was dead. No human’s neck was supposed to twist that way. He drew his eyes back to Giotto.

“Tell me precisely what happened,” he said in a forced calm voice.

“He was talking to me… and then he blanked out… like in the shuttle… Nees… went to try and wake him… but when he got close… Spock just…” Giotto shook his head in disbelief.

“And that was it? He wasn’t fiddling with anything? No strange gases or sparks or anything?”

Giotto shook his head.

“He was in some sort of trance… He spoke but I couldn’t… the words were alien…”

“Damn Vulcan,” McCoy muttered, thinking back to how Spock had brushed off their concern in the shuttle. “I better track him down.”

He made to stand up but the security chief reached to hold him.

“There’s something else… The chroniton radiation… it’s building to a surge… We have less than an hour… if we’re still here we’ll… go wherever the station goes…”

“Dammit!” McCoy swore and thought fast. “Right. I’ll head back to the others, get them to come collect you. You can all head to the shuttle while I find Spock.”

“Doctor… he’s armed…”

“So am I,” McCoy replied with determination. “I have enough tranquillizer in here to knock out five men. Should be enough to put out a Vulcan.”

“If you… get close enough.”

“Let’s just hope he’s calmed down huh?”

*

McCoy skidded to a halt just inside the medical bay and felt his blood run cold.

Livvy Urwin was lying in a pool of blood, too much blood for her to still be alive.

He stepped over and surveyed the wound. It was through the heart. He briefly comforted himself that she had probably died instantaneously before looking about for Ensign Eaves.

There was no other body lying there but what did that tell McCoy? That the ensign had run? That Spock had followed? He cursed softly.

A slight sound caught his attention and he moved cautiously into a back room. This was clearly a mortuary. Some things were the same all over he mused. But one of the doors was not locked properly.

Carefully he pulled a loaded hypo out of his medikit. Then he shifted closer until he could swing it open with a sudden jerk.

The terrified face of Jo Eaves looked out at him.

McCoy lowered the hypo with a sigh.

“It’s safe,” he said. “Come on out.”

“Mister Spock…!”

“I know,” McCoy replied softly as he eyed the trembling lad. “I think he’s under some sort of telepathic influence.”

McCoy wasn’t sure at all but it sounded reassuring. Eaves nodded and took a few calming breaths.

“What happened here?” McCoy asked, once Jo looked calmer.

“It happened so suddenly.” He shook his head. “I was in the main office when he stepped in. I heard Livvy… Livvy speak to him and then, then… he shot her!”

“I know. I saw her. It was quick at least. She didn’t suffer.”

Eaves nodded at that, taking the same comfort from it as McCoy.

“I slipped inside here. I didn’t know what else to do!”

“You did the sensible thing. You’re here now aren’t you? Together we’ll work everything out.”

McCoy eyed the young engineer and recalled this was his first time on a mission off ship. He wondered briefly if he’d recover from the experience.

“Alright,” McCoy declared decisively. “We’ve got several objectives now. Giotto’s injured up in the command centre. We need to get him back to the shuttle. Spock’s wandering about, armed and dangerous under some sort of external influence. We have to subdue him somehow. And we have to get off this station before the chroniton levels get too high.”

“How long’s that?”

“I’m not sure. Lot less than an hour by this time.”

Eaves nodded and then headed out towards where Ensign Urwin was still lying. Swallowing hard he bent down and collected her phaser.

“Method of subduing the Commander,” he commented. McCoy nodded encouragingly, even as he noted the switch to Spock’s title.

“Good,” he praised. “Let’s head back for Giotto first. It’ll take us both to move him.”

*

McCoy’s heart pounded as they hurried back to the security chief. He expected any moment to see Spock step round the next corner.

Half of him longed to see the Vulcan, either to find the madness had run its course or that he could do something to help – to sedate him at least until he could figure it out. 

The more primitive part of him simply hoped their paths wouldn’t cross. Not yet at least, he reasoned as he started at shadows. Not until he’d got the others out of the way.

Giotto was where he’d left him. A quick scan showed he was stable.

“Alright Jo,” he spoke quietly to Eaves, “You carry his feet and we’ll get him along to the shuttle.”

They moved into position and heaved, the stoic security chief merely grimacing as he was lifted.

The journey was silent after that. McCoy and Eaves were both alert for any hint of the Vulcan while Giotto was trying to cope with the shifting pain.

It wasn’t until they’d laid him back in the shuttle that anyone spoke.

“Okay,” McCoy announced. “I’m going to fetch Spock.”

“Doctor,” Giotto’s voice was urgent if weak. “We can only have about thirty minutes left… and the Commander isn’t likely to come easily.”

There it was again, McCoy noted – the distancing of a title.

“I have to suggest the possibility… that we’ll have to leave him,” Giotto finished.

McCoy swallowed down his anger. The security chief was a _patient_. And worse than that, he made a valid point. McCoy nodded before he trusted himself to speak.

“I understand. But I’m not prepared to give up on him yet. Eaves? If I’m not back in twenty-five minutes – leave!”

So saying he ducked out through the hatch and rushed back into the darkness of the space station.


	6. Kosst Amojan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to StellarLibraryLady whose reply to my original drabble gave life to this story. You'll recognise the wording from your drabble in here.

McCoy was terrified.

He was terrified he wouldn’t be able to find Spock. He knew he couldn’t make that decision to leave the Vulcan behind. They went together or not at all.

He was also terrified he _would_ find Spock.

The man was apparently quite literally out of his Vulcan mind and the irony wasn’t lost upon McCoy given the number of times he’d flung that particular epitaph his friend’s way.

He clutched his tranquiliser as he peeked around another corner.

Empty.

McCoy let out a breath and headed swiftly along. It must have been ten minutes since he’d left _Copernicus_. If he assumed it would take the same amount of time to return that meant he had only five minutes to locate and subdue Spock. His only real hope of subduing the stronger, faster, smarter Vulcan was to catch him unawares, which meant he had to avoid detection until he was within hypospray range.

He wished he’d thought to takes the phaser from Eaves.

It didn’t take a Vulcan genius to figure out the odds were not in the doctor’s favour.

How in Hades had it come to this? Hiding from a deranged killer in an abandoned space station. And just when things between him and Spock were looking up.

He’d admit to himself that he’d long been smitten by the First Officer. Even from the first he’d been forced to acknowledge to himself that he found the Vulcan physically attractive but he hadn’t believed he could possibly _fall_ for the stoic officer. By the time he realised he had, he was too far gone to have a hope of stopping himself.

But then McCoy thought about the subtle signs he thought he had noticed since Spock’s return from Bajor. Spock’s willingness to interact with him… looks that lasted slightly longer than before… words spoken that were not as sharp… and he allowed himself to entertain the brief hope this meant he’d be preferred alive if he did run into Spock.

A click behind him made him turn. Spock was staring at him, or rather through him, holding a projectile weapon.

A ‘gun’ his stunned mind supplied.

McCoy looked down the barrel of the gun and said the only thing he could think to say.

“I love you.”

Spock’s eyes cleared and for an instant he seemed himself as he nodded and said, “I know.”

Before pulling the trigger.

McCoy squeezed his eyes closed, instinctively bracing himself for pain and oblivion, as he felt the brush of a bullet. It took him a long breath before he realized it had passed by his head harmlessly.

McCoy risked opening his eyes.

Spock was frowning at the gun in puzzlement.

“If this is what Heaven looks like, Spock, I don’t know if I want to stay.” McCoy spoke softly, unsure really what he was saying but needing to speak to try and connect with the Vulcan.

Spock looked at McCoy, not understanding.

“I expect if it’s hell, you’ll be there, too. Face it, Spock, we can‘t lose each other. What do you think of that?”

Spock stood pondering, then dropped the gun. He remained cut off from the doctor though. McCoy considered his own words and made a decision.

“We can face this thing together, if you‘d like.”

“Please,” Spock whispered and started shaking.

McCoy was momentarily shocked. Spock was clearly struggling to overcome whatever was forcing him to act against his will and McCoy didn’t know what he could do to help. But Spock was so vulnerable… how could McCoy not extend himself to help someone in need?

Especially a man he was hopelessly in love with.

It was only a few feet between them, but it seemed like a mile as McCoy hurried across it. He wrapped his arms tightly around the shaking Vulcan and shushed him.

He knew they had to get going but Spock was trembling so violently now that McCoy thought he might be suffering a type of seizure.

Without letting go at all, the doctor pulled back so he could visually assess him but then gasped out loud.

Spock’s normally rich brown eyes were glowing red and as McCoy watched fiery sparks started crackling around the Vulcan. Every instinct told McCoy to pull away but he’d be damned if he let Spock go now. Not when he so clearly needed him.

Suddenly clouds of fiery embers escaped out from Spock’s body and the Vulcan collapsed. McCoy watched as the gaseous entity dissipated in the air and then he focused his entire attention on the man in his arms.

McCoy thought he was dead.

…

The ship has left orbit. It will be some time before ambassadors are dispatched and negotiations started to officially open relations with Earth.

Spock stands still and concentrates on her breathing and meditative rituals.

“You stayed?” The voice is soft. Gentle and also amazed.

She opens eyes she didn’t realise she’d closed and looks at him.

“I did,” she responds.

“Why?”

She hesitates a second, trying to think how to convey all she wants simply.

“I believe there is more to learn here than may be accomplished by official diplomats. In order to truly understand a culture, one must immerse oneself.”

He looks at her and again she senses he understands more than what she’s said.

“I thought perhaps,” she continues before hesitating again slightly. “You might be willing to assist me?”

It takes a moment but a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Certainly, my dear.”

…

The battle of Leuctra is over and Spock is bleeding. He can feel his heart beat still so he knows he yet lives but it is inevitable that he will die soon.

He thinks in these last moments of how the blue of his lover’s eyes is so much more vital than that of the expanse of sky above. Eyes he will never see again.

A voice interrupts his musings.

“Stupid stubborn Spartiate.”

He manages to turn his head and sees the doctor, _his_ doctor, tripping over strewn bodies and falling to his knees beside him.

Spock lies still as the Boeotian staunches the blood and deftly ties a tourniquet round his injured limbs. Finally he has to grit his teeth as he’s pulled to his feet.

“You’re coming home with me now,” the doctor informs him with all the authority of his profession.

“I am worthy of you?” Spock’s voice is slightly slurred.

“Damn right, you’re worthy.” The man kisses him briefly but forcefully. “You don’t need to prove that ever again.”

And Spock believes he is correct.

…

In a movement smooth and sure he reaches up and presses his finger to her psi points. She responds instinctively, matching his gesture and suddenly their minds are together.

‘ _Parted from me and never parted_ ,’ his mind’s voice recites the ritual words.

‘ _Never and always touching and touched_ ,’ her thoughts echo back to him.

She wants to stay lost in his thoughts, he knows, but he breaks the physical connection even as the mental bond remains.

Delicately he strokes the wetness from her cheeks.

“You are now my wife. It is logical for you to stay.”

…

Spock’s eyes opened and he stared up at familiar blue eyes.

“K'hat'n'dlawa,” he murmured.

The doctor blinked at him and then in a completely instinctive gesture he kissed him.

Spock relished the contact that seemed so inevitable but within seconds the doctor’s warm lips had retreated.

“We have to get out of here,” McCoy told him seriously. “We don’t have long before the station shifts through time again. Can you walk?”

Spock drew himself back to the present and focused on regaining his feet. McCoy kept a hand on his arm supporting him but thankfully it seemed unnecessary.

“I believe I shall even be able to run Doctor,” he replied.

As he spoke McCoy’s title, the human pulled his hand away as if burned.

“Better get going then,” he suggested, turning back the way he had come.

Spock swiftly caught his hand and pulled him the other way.

“This way will be quicker… Leonard.”


	7. Doctrine

The job of assessing Spock post-mission fell to Doctor M’Benga for a number of reasons.

Foremost of course was his training on Vulcan. McCoy may know to wake a Vulcan in a trance by providing physical stimulus but otherwise his knowledge was inadequate to the present scenario.

Secondly was the necessity of dealing with Lieutenant Commander Giotto’s injuries. As the physician already in charge of him it made sense for McCoy to perform the surgery.

Lastly was the simple sheer awkwardness on McCoy’s part. He’d believed the Vulcan dead. Then Spock had opened his eyes – those brown eyes that McCoy loved so well – and had spoken something in Vulcan that just triggered an instinctive reaction in the doctor.

Of course McCoy could explain it as tension relief. A surge of emotion on realising Spock was in fact alive. Similar to what Spock had himself experienced after his kal-if-fee. But he’d needed a bit of space to himself first before he could face him.

Luckily, post mission had required a debriefing with the captain. As Spock and Giotto were both under medical supervision and Ensign Eaves was too junior, it fell to McCoy to provide a full report.

So he’d spent his evening sat in a meeting room talking over with Jim every aspect he could remember and helping analyse what had happened. It would be a while before they actually understood the data they’d managed to salvage and it seemed likely the empty space station had continued its jaunt to whenever it was heading next.

Naturally Bones had left out the rather insignificant detail that he’d _kissed_ Spock… and they really couldn’t file a complete report until Spock had recovered sufficiently to detail what had happened to him… but it had been in depth enough to finally exhaust the doctor after his adrenaline filled day and he’d collapsed into bed and fallen promptly asleep.

He started awake suddenly several hours later, gasping for breath and with sweat soaking him. For a few heart stopping moments he stared around, expecting to see the dark metalwork of the space station. But then his heartrate calmed and he took a few deep breaths as he recognised his quarters on the _Enterprise_.

Pulling himself out of bed he began dressing hastily. Although he knew that all he’d just experienced was a dream, still he couldn’t shake the subtle fear that lingered. It was impossible that he’d get back to sleep without checking on Spock at the very least.

So it was that McCoy wandered into the subdued sickbay in the very early hours of the morning.

He didn’t want to disturb the staff so he slipped quietly to the Vulcan’s biobed and stood silently contemplating the sleeping face. Occasionally he glanced up at the monitor to reassure himself that everything was as it should be but otherwise he didn’t move.

Spock’s eyes flickered open briefly although he hadn’t awoken. His gaze darted around before landing on the doctor’s and then the brown eyes slid shut again.

“K'hat'n'dlawa,” he murmured softly.

McCoy frowned.

“It means ‘half of each other's heart and soul’,” M’Benga offered from the doorway. McCoy turned a startled glance on him before schooling his features and heading over to the other doctor.

“Guess he’s really out of it huh?”

M’Benga looked thoughtfully at his patient across the room.

“He’s entered a trance to deal with things,” he replied cautiously. “Perhaps you better come into the office.”

McCoy felt a pang of fear but followed without hesitation. As soon as they were both inside he asked, 

“How is he dealing with it? The killings?” he added in explanation.

M’Benga sat himself as he responded.

“Well. Vulcans are good at recognising the illogical nature of guilt over uncontrollable actions. While he regrets their deaths, and his part in it, he can accept what happened and realises that he was not at fault.”

McCoy nodded, for once grateful for the Vulcans’ logical approach.

“Is that what he’s doing in the trance?”

M’Benga pursed his lips.

“No-o. That’s necessary to deal with the root of the problem. Talking to Spock, it’s been apparent that he’s suffered symptoms since his visit to Bajor.”

McCoy tried not to wince as he remembered all his interactions with Spock since that time. He should have known something was wrong.

M’Benga continued.

“I contacted healers on Bajor and they consulted with their religious leaders. It seems likely Spock was host to a pah-wraith.”

“A what?”

“Best analogy is a demon.” M’Benga shrugged. “They’re evil opposites to the Prophets apparently.”

“Some kind of non-corporeal parasite?” McCoy queried, remembering the fiery shimmer leaving Spock as he held him. M’Benga nodded.

“More or less. Like the Prophets, they exist outside of our timeline… they’re not linear beings… that’s why they can supposedly show visions of the future.”

McCoy frowned but refrained from commenting.

“In Spock’s case, it seems the pah-wraith was drawing old memories into his dreams. Very old memories.”

“You mean Spock’s childhood?”

M’Benga hesitated and fiddled awkwardly.

“I’d speculate that Spock saw visions of past lives.”

McCoy couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

“You have to be kidding! I can’t imagine a Vulcan believing in something as illogical as reincarnation.”

“You’d be surprised,” M’Benga replied placidly. “Vulcans have a strong belief in what we’d consider the soul. I’d say it’s more of a certainty as we’d believe in our liver or intestine. Vulcans have their souls stored in Katric Arks when they die, provided they can make arrangements first.”

McCoy stared at the African doctor.

“So, what? Spock believes in previous lives his soul wasn’t stored properly?”

M’Benga nodded cautiously.

“To a degree, certainly. But his memories are not limited to Vulcan. He has memories of Earth too.”

“Because of his half-human heritage,” McCoy surmised, coming to terms with this new idea. “But what did the pah-wraith want? What could it gain by showing Spock past lives?”

“It wanted to drive him to despair… to drive him into madness… gradually so we would not realise it was there. When it was exposed to the radiation on the space station it apparently began acting more aggressively.”

McCoy shook his head, still having trouble coping with this spirit possession.

“And how does showing Spock past lives drive him to despair? Just because he can’t reconcile the memories with the life he knows?”

“No. In fact the pah-wraith showed him incomplete memories, giving Spock a sense of inevitable futility in his ambitions. When the creature was evicted, it seems the conclusions of the dreams were revealed. He’s in the trance now to sort through those.”

“Incomplete memories,” McCoy muttered thoughtfully. “Like ambitions not achieved, roads not travelled, that sort of thing?”

“That sort of thing,” M’Benga agreed cautiously.


	8. United

McCoy’s first reaction on hearing his office door open was irritation. He was so close to making it to the end of his shift without an emergency or a damn stupid accident. However his expression changed when he looked up and recognised the First Officer.

“Spock! What you doing here? Something wrong?”

“My health is fine Doctor,” Spock assured him. “However I did wish to speak to you about my recent experiences.”

McCoy suppressed his wince. So far he hadn’t spoken to Spock alone at all. From what he could tell the Vulcan had no memory of his last-minute confession and he intended to keep it that way.

“Technically, M’Benga’s your physician on this case. He’s already dealing with your symptoms and any further concerns should really be made to him.”

“I did not intend to report any concerns. I had intended to talk to you as a friend.”

McCoy could think of nothing to say to that statement and simply waved Spock into the seat opposite.

“I understand that Doctor M’Benga explained the unusual dreams I experienced following my visit to Bajor?” Spock began.

“He said you were experiencing what you believed were memories from past lives,” McCoy responded, taking care to keep his tone neutral.

“Indeed. He did not, I think, share the specific content of these memories with you?”

“No. As CMO I could access the details in your file of course but I prefer to maintain doctor-patient confidentiality wherever possible.”

McCoy was certain Spock almost smiled at him.

“Your ethical conduct is beyond reproach,” he commented simply before changing topics. “Do you recall what I called you on Gasko Station?”

McCoy couldn’t meet the Vulcan’s eyes and fought to hold back his blush. It seemed Spock’s memory wasn’t as faulty as he’d hoped.

“You said… k'hat'n'dlawa,” McCoy answered. He did not add that he’d now memorised that moment, for all his attendant embarrassment.

Spock’s smile was unmistakeable now, for all that it was only the corners of his mouth.

“K'hat'n'dlawa,” he echoed back. “It means the other half of my soul. A human might say soulmate.”

McCoy coughed awkwardly.

“Very interestin’ Spock. What’s that to do with those memories you been having?”

“Simply that in all the dreams, all the _memories_ , the one constant feature was yourself. The other half of my soul. It seems we are eternally bound Leonard.”

McCoy stared. And then he blinked. But the Vulcan didn’t disappear and McCoy didn’t wake up.

“What do you expect me to say to that?!” He had hoped to sound calm and professional however he was well aware he sounded more panicked. “I don’t even believe in past lives!”

“That is not entirely relevant,” Spock offered. “As I am offering to join myself to you in this life.”

McCoy tried squeezing his eyes shut but that had no effect either.

“You’re offering to…” he couldn’t even verbalise what Spock was offering, “Because you believe we were together in a past life?”

“In several past lives. All the ones I have had access to.”

McCoy shook his head vigorously.

“Spock, a week ago I wasn’t even sure you _liked_ me!”

“I can assure you I did in fact consider you a prospective mate a week ago,” Spock told him calmly. “Even without the knowledge from the dreams, I have compiled a list of reasons why you would be an ideal mate. I should be honoured to bond with you.”

“Whoa! Wait. We seem to have gone from awkward friends to marriage in one hell of a leap here. It’s too soon… too sudden…”

This time, Spock blinked.

“Of course. It must be an emotional occurrence for you,” he acknowledged. “I shall draw up a more reasonable time scale for our courtship. We may start with dating, gradually increasing in levels of intimacy. There will be no rush for a physical aspect but again a gradual increase in levels of familiarity-”

“Alright,” McCoy interrupted. “I’m ready.”

An eyebrow soared in surprise.

“I had anticipated you would require a longer period of adjustment.”

“Spock, I may not be sure about this past life business but I understand missed opportunities and regrets well enough. I love you and it seems you love me too so…”

Spock nodded and waited for McCoy to finish the sentence.

McCoy however had run out of courage.

He’d told Spock he loved him. Again. And neither occasion had been highly romantic. In fact he’d managed to make this time almost routine.

“You mentioned ‘dating’?” he suggested.

Spock nodded and for one brief flicker of an instant, he looked almost… disappointed.

“Or,” McCoy suggested, his courage rallying, “We could leap straight in and get married.”

Spock’s expression cleared and he visibly relaxed.

“It would be the most efficient course as I believe it is the only logical outcome,” he agreed.

McCoy relaxed as well, feeling suddenly as if everything was finally going the way it was supposed to.

“Better go see Jim then,” he said, standing up and moving out from behind his desk. Spock stopped him with a hand to his elbow.

“Before we do that, I should wish to share my memories with you. You may not believe in reincarnation but…”

He hesitated and McCoy smiled warmly at him.

“Guess we should get used to sharing huh?” he commented, settling back to rest against his desk. “Go ahead then.”

Spock gingerly brought his fingers up to rest on McCoy’s psi points.

“My mind to your mind,”

‘ _My thoughts to your thoughts_.’

It starts as it always starts.


End file.
